Riding High
by Jessimyre
Summary: It all started with a simple bag snatching. Now Smithy and Roger find themselves trying to find the truth of the matter amongst assault, drug trafficking and prostitution. Who's side is the beautiful Katherine Green really on? Please R&R!


Hi all! This is my 1st The Bill fanfic, please R&R and encourage me to continue with my idea.

**Disclaimer:** Naturally I don't own The Bill, the locations or characters portrayed herein. But Katherine is mine, all mine.

I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 1

It was a crisp autumn morning, in Sunhill, London. Winter was on its way and the shift had all dressed warmly before venturing out of doors to attend to their duties. The leaves were turning and one's breath was already misting the air. People were wrapped warm and reddening noses and cheeks above thick scarves bore testimony to the cold.

The sun gave little warmth in the cloudless sky as Sergeant Dale Smith and PC Roger Valentine wrapped their Styrofoam coffee cups in their hands, enjoying the brief warmth the scalding drink gave them.

The pair wandered slowly away from the cafe, halting on the pavement of the busy street, enjoying their hot drinks out of the way of passers by.

"Ah, that's the stuff eh, Sarge?" Roger smiled, taking a sip.

"Nothing better on these cold mornings." Dale agreed. He had traded his usual post at the office for some beat work. He liked to get out and about with his relief, and keep his hand in at real street policing.

"And before you know it, Christmas'll be here." Roger mused. "The wife's already fretting about shopping and cooking dinner. The kids are coming up for a couple of days. It'll be nice to see them again."

"I've got some time off, I'm going to spend it with Mum." Dale smiled, "She always says she doesn't see enough of me."

A moment later a woman's cry rent the air. Her voice distressed and they could hear indistinct yelling. A few shoppers looked around, trying to see what was happening.

Without thinking both men hurled their coffees into the bin beside them and ran in the direction of the commotion. As they approached the corner of Peach St, they heard a man's voice too.

"Let go you stupid cow!"

The woman's voice was harder to make out although several choice swear-words were decipherable.

As Smithy reached the corner, he saw immediately, across the road a young woman and man tussling over a handbag. The man was trying to snatch it out of her hands but the young woman, hair flying wasn't letting go readily.

In an instant the man swung his fist around and punched the woman in the face, the force of the blow almost spinning her around. She leaned forward, hand to her face which was now hidden by a curtain of long brown hair.

"Oi you!" Smithy roared. "Stop! Police!"

The man glanced once over his shoulder and ran for it.

"Damn!" Roger, behind him.

But then the woman began to run too. Her back to them, scarf flying behind her, she pounded after her attacker.

"_Great! That's all we need!"_ Sergeant Smith thought to himself as he crossed the road, pausing for a moment as a car went passed, not having time to stop.

"Stop you son of a bitch! That's my bag!" the woman hollered. The thief glanced over his shoulder again and the sight of his victim bearing down on him with fury in her face not to mention the two policemen behind her lent his feet wings and he put his head down and ran.

Skipping past bemused shoppers on Peach St, the woman seemed to be putting all her energy into running. She was fit, and knew how to run well. Roger and Dale followed doggedly.

The man ran across another road and headed into a park. Perhaps thinking he'd lose his pursuers he headed straight toward a large group of lads playing football. Many people were watching and cheering the game, not paying the slightest attention to one more running man.

"She's catching him, Sarge!" Roger wheezed behind Dale's right shoulder.

And indeed she was. The woman was now only a few steps behind the thief as they raced across the pitch. Most of the players were stopping to stare now, wondering who was invading their game.

Suddenly the woman lunged and brought the thief to the floor with a spectacular flying tackle. The footballers cheered in delight.

As Dale reached them, he could hear the woman's voice. Her accent immediately told him she wasn't from around here.

"Got you, you jerk!" She panted, "I ought to give you such a thrashing for that!"

She was kneeling on the thief's neck, just hard enough to pin him down and had his right arm twisted painfully up behind his back. She looked like she'd done this before.

"We'll take it from here, love." Sergeant Smith laid a hand on the woman's shoulder. She glanced up and as soon as she saw the uniform, she stepped back allowing Roger to grab the miscreant and haul him to his feet.

"You're nicked, chum." He said.

The three of them ignored the gathered footballers, all discussing the event excitedly.

"What's your name?" Dale asked.

"Katherine Green." She answered breathlessly. Sergeant Smith gazed at her for a moment as Roger told the thief his rights.

"Well Katherine, we'll need you to come down to the station to make a statement." Dale told her, "And we'll get that eye checked out, too." He said. "I'll get the FME to take a look at you."

Before she could decline, Dale radioed in for a car. It looked as though it was going to be a busy morning.

"'Ere, love, d'you want to come out for a beer?" one of the footballers called out cheerfully to the young woman.

"Thanks, but no." she answered with a half smile.

"How about joining the team, then?" one asked, "That was a lovely tackle." The men chuckled – it seemed even though he was turned down, nothing could diminish their good mood brought on by such excitement interrupting their game.

"All right, all right." Dale said, "That's enough." And he and Roger began walking their offender and victim off the pitch.

Several of the footballers called after Katherine before turning away to finish their game. She was an attractive girl, no more than 25 or so and even with a ripening black eye, still managed to look fabulous.

"I wants 'er arrested!" the thief snarled in Roger's grip. "She assaulted me, she did. Damn near broke me arm!"

"Arrest me!" Katherine said incredulously, but before either could argue further a car drew up, PC Tony Stamp behind the wheel. Still trying to plead his case, the thief was put in the back seat and Roger got in beside him.

"Look, I'm running late for an appointment." Katherine turned to Smithy. "What station are you at? I'll pop down in about an hour to make my statement."

"Alright," Smithy drew out his card. "Come down to Sunhill and ask for me, Sergeant Dale Smith." He told her. She smiled briefly as she took the card.

"You make sure you come down, now." He told her, "We need your statement."

"Oh don't worry, I'll be there." She answered. "I want that jack-ass charged."


End file.
